Loved and Lost
by Murf
Summary: On an M-class planet, paradise isn't so heavenly, and love isn't requited. Slight, not quite one-sided K/S no hooking up here , and one-sided OC/K.


Title: Loved and Lost

Fandom: Star Trek: TOS

Genre: Romance/General

Pairings: Slight K/S, more like Jim's pining after the Vulcan than anything else.

Summary: On an M-class planet, paradise isn't so heavenly, and love isn't requited. Slight, not quite one-sided K/S (no hooking up here), and one-sided OC/K

Word Count: 3,809.

"Captain, the sensors are picking up a lack of humanoid life. However, animal, plant, and fungal life is present in abundance." Spock looked over at his captain from his usual position, leaning over his console with his rather delectable rear end pointed in said captain's general direction.

'In fact, you could almost believe he does it on purpose,' Jim Kirk thought before he reluctantly took his eyes off of that rear to respond to its owner. "All right, Mr. Spock. We'll beam down shortly." He paused and turned to Uhura, who, in absence of any communications, was filing her nails. "Lt. Uhura, please have Dr. McCoy, Yeoman Hendrickson and Ensign Lumiere report to the transporter room, and tell Scotty he has the bridge. Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov, Mr. Spock, please follow me."

The four men piled into the turbolift, which was rather small. Therefore, Jim did not feel at all guilty about invading his First Officer's personal space. Better it was him doing the invading than Sulu or Chekov, right?

The turbolift, which was rather slow by most standards, seemed to be moving too fast for Jim's liking, and it was all too soon that they all got out and walked the rest of the way to the transporter room.

They beamed down, courtesy of Chief Kyle. 'Odd, we seem to be standing on the same rock every time,' Jim thought, then resolved to ask the ship's geologist about it, once he got the chance. He removed himself from his thoughts, and took in the surrounding vista

It was a beautiful planet, with streams and rivers winding through a meadow of wildflowers and into a forest nearby.

The calm and beauty put Jim on edge. Trips to these sorts of pretty planets never turned out well, and someone usually died. Or Spock got hurt or accidentally high on native plants, which, while being amusing in a twisted sort of way, was generally a bad thing.

Sulu, being the amateur botanist, was grinning brightly down at the flowers and plants. Chekov was busy trying to impress Yeoman Hendrickson, probably by telling her some fact about the apparent superiority of Russia. Ensign Lumiere straightened his red shirt and nervously patted his phaser, as if to make sure it was still there.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Jim," Bones grumbled from Jim's left.

"Unfortunately, so do I." Jim was glad that someone, at least, had noticed the same uncanny pattern. "Peaceful planets are never as...peaceful as they seem."

"Illogical," Spock began, "but it seems to be statistically true."

"Well, we...won't know anything...until we survey the planet, will we?" Jim said. He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, let's go."

Everyone climbed down from the suspiciously familiar rocky outcropping and made for the wildflowers.

Hendrickson smiled as a wash of lovely, flowery scents bombarded the landing party. "Oh," she said, bending down to pick a flower, "I haven't seen flowers like this since I went to the 190th anniversary of Woodstock!"

Jim was somewhat distracted by the fact that Hendrickson's skirt was far too short for her to be bending over double like that.

He thanked his lucky stars that he had Spock to nudge him gently in the ribs and bring him back to reality.

Sulu knelt, taking samples and logging them with his tricorder. Spock was rechecking his previous readings about the makeup of the planet's atmosphere. Lumiere was looking around, still looking nervous. Chekov had once again started conversing with Hendrickson, this time about the Woodstock festival (Who knew the enthusiastic young ensign was so knowledgeable about something that had nearly nothing to do with his home country?), leaving Bones and Jim to feel somewhat useless.

Jim contented himself with appreciatively eyeing his first officer, a habit he'd picked up quite soon after meeting the half-Vulcan.

Bones poked him. "You know, one of these days he's going to catch you at it. You've never been exactly subtle."

Jim raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything, because Spock seemed to be finishing up.

When the rest of the landing party was finished with the flowers, they headed on towards the forest. Upon arriving, they turned back towards the beamdown point, only to find that the planet's blue-tinged sun was setting in a quite spectacular fashion.

"My God," Bones whispered.

"Look at ze kolors!" Chekov stood stock-still and wide-eyed.

And, indeed, the colors were incredible, with purples and reds and blues and even some green, but not a hint of yellow anywhere. The clouds were glowing silver as the dimming light hit them.

"Fascinating," Spock intoned, and there was the barest hitch of true amazement in his breath.

The landing party watched the sun go down until it was only a hazy, blue-green line on the horizon. Jim felt strangely cathartic, as if he'd just witnessed one of those moments that a person remembered for the rest of his or her life.

Somewhat reluctantly, and casting a glance at the sky, Jim gave the order to proceed into the forest.

The forest by night was rather unsettling and more than a little chilly. The trees loomed above them, the water gurgled in its eddies, pools, and rivulets, and Jim had the uncomfortable feeling that they were being watched.

"Spock," he muttered, drawing a little closer to his first, "Spock, is it just me, or does it seem like something is watching us?"

The low rumble of Spock's voice was unexpectedly comforting when he replied, "I believe I am aware of the sensation to which you are referring, Captain. However, I am uncertain as to its cause."

"All right. At least I'm not crazy." Jim twitched a smile in Spock's direction before turning to Hendrickson. "Yeoman, any sign of animal activity?"

"A few scats, scratches on tree-bark, and a track of hoofprints, sir." She paused, smiling prettily. "I think it would be a good idea to follow the hoofprints, to see what kind of animal made them."

"All right, then lead the way." Jim and the others followed the young woman deeper into the forest.

They soon found the animal that had made the tracks.

Well, the animal found them.

It was large, angry, and, judging from its six-inch fangs, decidedly carnivorous. It had a horn in the center of its horse-like forehead, that banded black, white, and the tip was red.

Jim hoped that the color was not from dried blood.

"That's the scariest unicorn I've ever seen," Bones growled as the thing pawed at the ground.

"It does bear a startling resemblance to the creature from Terran mythology. However, the unicorn is usually skittish and nonconfrontational." Spock was eyeing the thing, and he looked unusually tense.

"Oh!" whispered Hendrickson, "Oh, it's a kar-kah-dan! There was a myth, in the Middle East and Asia, about a unicorn with a warhorse's build and the mind of a warrior."

The creature didn't seem to care what they named it, because it took that moment to charge at Jim, Spock, and McCoy. Bones stepped clear, but Jim and Spock each tried to push the other into a safer spot. The creature cut between them, and they fell in different directions, and on different sides of its broad, powerful flanks.

Jim was mostly unhurt, with a glancing blow leaving a long, superficial scratch on his left shoulder that barely even bled.

However, Spock was in distinctly worse shape. He let out a strangled moan, which brought Jim immediately to his side to survey the damage as Bones made his way over to them.

It was bad; the thing's horn had punctured Spock's side, and then it had ripped its horn free, leaving a very large gash that exposed the bottom two ribs of Spock's elongated, Vulcan ribcage and bled heavily, washing the ground green. Thankfully, however, the unicorn (or whatever it was) had got him on the side opposite his heart.

Jim silently thanked whatever higher powers there were in the universe that Spock had been standing on the left.

"Captain!" Ensign Lumiere's voice rang in the near-silence. "Captain, it's coming back!"

"Kill it, then!"

"Unn...necessary, Captain." Spock's voice was breathy, and he coughed up blood in the middle of the sentence.

"Spock! Spock, it almost killed you!" Jim grit his teeth; he knew Spock would find that reason illogical, but it was the only, and the best reason he had. An injury or immediate danger to Spock was always Jim's best reason to kill something or someone.

"He's right, Spock," Bones growled, searching through his medical kit. "A couple of inches to the right, and you'd be dead."

Spock coughed again, as Bones finally pulled the right hypospray out of his bag and phaserfire whooshed overhead. "Illogi--illogical. Injury to---"

"Shush," Jim interrupted. "Save it for later."

Spock shushed, but looked displeased. Jim looked, for once, everywhere except at Spock. He hated seeing his first officer, best friend, and the longtime object of his affections hurt; it made him anxious and uncomfortable, and, in most of the situations where Spock got hurt, Jim needed to stay calm, for the sake of his crew.

It was a few tense minutes before Bones declared, "He'll be fine. I've patched him up, but he'll be a little weak from blood loss until we get back to the ship and I can get some pills into him."

"Unnecessary, Doctor." Spock seemed to have regained control of his voice; only the barest tinge of discomfort was audible. "My body can take care of itself."

There was a moment of tension between the two before Jim intervened. "Well, Spock, do you need any help getting up?"

"Unknown, Captain; I have not yet attempted to stand."

Jim smiled. "Ah, yes, of course." He turned toward the others. Hendrickson was seated on a rock, with her head in her hands. Lumiere sat beside her, an arm draped across her shoulders. Chekov looked appalled at the carnage; Sulu had a hand on his shoulder and was whispering something that seemed to set the younger man a little more at ease.

Spock attempted to stand, but his jaw tensed and he eased himself back to a seated position. "Assistance, unfortunately, will be necessary."

"Damn straight it will," Bones grumbled as Jim moved to allow Spock to lean on his shoulder.

Jim placed a hand between Spock's shoulder blades and wrapped the other around Spock's wrist. He maneuvered Spock's arm so the hybrid was half draped across his shoulders, and levered him to his feet.

He was surprised to hear a mumbled 'thank you' from his first officer, but the surprise was a pleasant one, filling him with warmth despite the evening's chill.

Spock didn't attempt to stand unaided; he seemed strangely content to lean on Jim.

"Well," Jim said, raising his voice enough so that the others could hear, "Let's continue. I think...yes, I think I hear some running water. We should be able to find other animals there."

Hendrickson looked up, regret and a little fear crossing her face. "I apologize for what happened, Captain, Mr. Spock.

"It's all right, Yeoman," Jim said, smiling, "You couldn't...have known...the animal was dangerous."

"Thank you, sir."

The group moved on, a little slower now because of Spock's injuries. Soon, they reached an impressive waterfall that fed into a small body of water that was somewhere between a pond and a lake. There was, strangely enough, a bridge over the pond that couldn't possibly be a natural formation. It was intricately carved, with stone latticework and crystalline flowers. Gold-colored filigree threaded through the stone.

"Fascinating," Spock murmured. Jim helped him over to the bridge itself, so he could give the thing a closer examination.

"Look!" Sulu sounded excited, and Jim twisted around to gauge what the helmsman was looking at. Following Sulu's gaze over the bridge, he saw that, over the bridge, a garden was growing. Hedges blocked most of it from view, but he could see fruit trees above the hedgeline.

Hanging from all of the trees were what looked like golden apples.

"The garden of the Hesperides." Sulu's words hung in the empty air, soft and awed. Jim furrowed his brow; he'd never heard of such a place, fictional, legendary, or actual.

"From Ancient Greek mythology, Captain," Spock clarified. Jim had no idea how Spock knew that he didn't know, but was grateful, nonetheless. "The final labor of the Greek hero Herakles was to steal an apple from that garden, despite the garden being protected by Atlas, the Titan cursed to forever uphold the heavens."

"I see." Jim paused and smiled. "Well, Mr. Sulu, I won't keep you from the garden, then. I don't think I could if I tried."

Sulu grinned and practically ran up the steep steps of the bridge.

Hower, he made it halfway across when he was suddenly, violently flung from the bridge and into the water by what looked like nothing at all.

"The Hell?" Bones asked the universe.

Of course, the universe wasn't really in the habit of answering questions as soon as they were asked, so the answer would have to, undoubtedly, wait.

Meanwhile, Sulu pulled himself out of the pond, looking wet, disappointed, and annoyed.

"It seems the garden...doesn't want any visitors," Jim mused, trying to determine, as everyone else was, what had caused Sulu's spontaneous, unwanted bath.

"YOU HAVE TRESPASSED."

The disembodied, booming voice (Jim wondered, briefly, if there was any other type of disembodied voice) reverberated through the quiet forest.

"YOU HAVE TRESPASSED. IT IS FORBIDDEN TO ENTER THE GARDEN."

"Errr..." Jim began. "...We've managed to, uh, discern that, ourselves."

"Show yourself." Spock spoke firmly; he treated the disembodied voice in much the same manner that a parent would use to scold a hiding child.

There was a moment of complete silence. Then, the air itself shivered, fluttering around the landing party with the sound of a flock of keening birds. Jim got the distinct impression that whatever being the voice belonged to considered itself insulted by Spock's command. He supposed that it thought that some odd-looking, obviously injured humanoid had no right to treat it like some child.

"YOU MUST BE PUNISHED."

Suddenly, Sulu cried out, his hands flying to his throat. The voice was strangling him.

"Stohp zat!" Chekov shouted. "Ve did not know zat ze garden vos forbidden! He vos merely exploring! Put him down, or zo help me God, I vill..." The young Russian fell into his native tongue, most likely explaining in detail what he intended to do.

It shocked the entire landing party when the voice released Sulu, whose knees buckled only a little before Chekov was at his side, supporting him and glaring at the surrounding forest.

"THE YOUTH'S COURAGE IS ADMIRABLE. LOOK TO THE CLIFF."

Everyone did, struggling to see in the deepening dark. A humanoid was standing at the top of the waterfall, silhouetted against the larger of the planet's two moons.

The being disappeared, and then appeared on the bridge. It was a female, and she was beautiful. She was tall and thin, with pale hair and dark eyes. Jim couldn't discern anything more specific, though he tried, given the bad lighting and the fact that she wore a dress that billowed about her and didn't hint at the body it covered.

"You have passed the first test," she said.

Then, the world dissolved.

When Jim could see again, he found himself standing in the middle of a glade in the forest. Nearby, on his right-hand side, a bed was set out, with satin sheets and thick, soft-looking pillows.

"Captain..." Jim turned around at the sound of the musical, feminine voice.

The woman from the bridge stood before him, dressed in a filmy, gauzy dress that was barely decent to wear in one's own home, much less in front of a complete stranger. She was gorgeous, with, despite the horrid cliche of it, curves in all of the right places, and her pale hair glimmered in the moonlight.

Jim Kirk was a complete sucker for blondes. However, he did have other things on his mind.

"Where's Spock?" he asked warily.

"Oh," she murmured, "Oh, he's just fine; you shouldn't have to worry about him the way you do. It isn't fair to you or to anyone else who cares about you."

She drew closer to him with cat-like grace, her eyes brimming with compassion. "I can tell you care so deeply for him, even though he doesn't notice. I feel terrible about it, Captain. I want to help you; Maybe I can make you forget him for a little while?"

Jim felt the heat rising in his face. "I-I have a...duty to my crew. Please, just...return me to my landing party."

A hurt look passed over the woman's face, but she drew even closer, placing her long-fingered hands lightly on Jim's chest. She pressed a soft kiss to his jawline. "Let me help you, Captain. Let me help you, please."

Jim tried to fight down the attraction he was feeling toward the woman, but self-control was never one of his strong points when it came to women. "Ah...I need to get back..."

"Shh..." she whispered, nuzzling into the junction between his neck and shoulder.

Jim closed his eyes and hoped she didn't truly realize the effect she was having on him. If she did, and continued what she was doing to his neck, his self-control, the little of it that he did have, would cease to exist. He bit his lip as her hands slid down to his hips; he wasn't about to let her hear him moan.

"I must," he growled, his voice tightly controlled, "get back t-to Sp--haah!" It was somewhat appropriate that his first officer's name was the word that devolved into a sex noise.

"So stubborn," the woman mewled. "Why him? Why the Vulcan?"

"Because." Jim fought his way out of the lust-induced haze. "Simply because. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Vulcan, a landing party, and a ship to get back to. In that order."

Finally the woman drew away from him. She was angry; her eyes were hardened and her voice, cold. "See if you can, Captain. See if you can even find them without me! And," she said, smirking viciously, "see if they're still breathing."

She turned away and disappeared, leaving Jim alone in the forest.

He stood there for a few moments, chilled by her declaration. Then, as he shook himself from his fear, he turned, searching for something, anything that could tell him where he was. He groped for his communicator, but wasn't really all that surprised to find it missing. The first thing that always got lost was the communicator.

He set off, but stopped abruptly.

He didn't know where the hell he was, and the forest was a pretty monotonous place. He could walk in circles and not realize it.

The situation being what it was, that was unacceptable.

He had to get back to the landing party. He had to get to Spock, before she had the chance to kill him. Jim knew, instinctively, that Spock would be the first one she'd kill.

Forcing himself to think clearly, he came up with an idea. He pulled off his already torn shirt and ripped it into thin strips. When he turned or changed direction, he'd tie a strip of cloth from the ruined uniform to the closest tree branch.

He made his way like this, hoping he hadn't begun in the wrong direction, for quite a long while. But he did make it back.

What he found there, he would never forget.

Sulu and Chekov were tied together with vines, bleeding and unconscious (Jim didn't even let himself think they might be dead); Ensign Lumiere was standing in terror, with his eyes wide, and so was Yeoman Hendrickson (they seemed caught, paralyzed where the were); and Bones was fighting the rip-currents that had somehow materialized in the water. Spock, well...

She had him in her grasp.

She turned when she heard Jim approaching. "Oh, Captain, my captain, you've made it just in time to see your first officer die. Such lovely timing you have!"

He glared. Spock was conscious, but remained silent.

"You choose, I think. Shall it be poison?" A flower-tipped vine snaked out and released spores, just out of reach of Spock's face. "Or maybe suffocation?" The same vine reached around and gently caressed Spock's throat.

"Do you think...this'll make me stay...with you?" Jim asked, his voice dangerously soft.

"Yes! I'll kill them all, and you'll be mine!"

"No. If they die...I die, d'you understand?!" He grabbed her slim shoulder and tore her away from Spock. Her plans would backfire horribly; he'd make her see that. He'd kill himself if she killed them, hell, he'd kill himself if she killed Spock.

Her eyes widened. "Y-you wouldn't do that. I'd make you forget, and you'd love me more than you ever loved him. And we'd be happy, can't you see?"

"No. I can't forget. Never." He looked at her, staring deep into her dark eyes. "Even if I wanted to."

Their conversation was a whispered one; no one but them, and most likely Spock, could hear it. He touched her face. "And I can't love you. You're beautiful, but I can't love you."

It began to rain heavily, soaking the forest and everyone in it.

She was crying, and she'd made the very sky cry with her. She whispered, "But I love you. I don't know why or how, but I love you."

"Someone said, once, 'It is better to have loved and lost, than ne'er loved at all.'"

"I think you might know that best," she mumbled.

He kissed her cheek, a kiss of understanding, of forgiveness. He knew the things love could drive a person to all too well. "Now let them go. Please."

She nodded, and all of the vines swept back into the trees and the river's flow eased. Sulu stirred, his arm tightening around Chekov's waist; Lumiere and Hendrickson breathed sighs of relief; and Bones pulled himself out of the water.

The woman simply looked at him and faded away.

Bones made his way over to Jim after briefly checking over Sulu and Chekov. "What was all of that about? You and her disappeared, and the next thing you know, she's back and as angry as a wet hen. I'm a doctor, not a competitive swimmer!"

"I'm sorry, Bones, but she...had a few...issues...with my desire to leave."

The doctor nodded. "Now, can we please get back to the ship? Most people don't enjoy standing in the rain, you know!"

"Of course," Jim said, smiling at his friend's grumpy demeanor. He found that his communicator was mysteriously back where it belonged. He contacted the ship, and he said, "Scotty, beam us up."

~end~

Author's Note: Wheeeee! I wrote TOS fic that wasn't drabble-sized. Heck, this might be my first plotty fic in a very, very long time. I came up with this after combing old documents on my computer, and found an old Star Wars challenge that I never wrote, and it hit me that the prompts were perfect for TOS. You know, all of Star Trek's oldest cliches, and the general campiness of the series.

The homoerotic undertones may be just a liiiittle more obvious here than in the series itself, but I tried to stay as close to the canon as I could. I personally love the beginning, with the ass-watching that Jim does. Because you know he does it. And the mutual protecting, and the staring and the worrying and the fact that Jim values Spock's life above his own. Those things are all canon. I only added what all of us fangirls know Jim's thinking, and the psycho planet-spirit-love-interest to make it explicit.

I apologize deeply for the mush. The plot and the challenge demanded it.

Anyway, thank you to you for reading, and thank you to my favorite vidders on YouTube: ImaginarySanity, gin1119, ChildatHeart16, and tguessca. I write with your Spirk vids playing in the background, and your humourous stuff makes me giggle. Special thanks to ImaginarySanity for her hilarious slashy readings of scenes (the Backrub scene is utter win! If you haven't watched it, go! It makes Spirk so obvious! Not that it was subtle before, though...) and for her "Kirk is a Womanizer" and "Recessional (Kirk/Spock/Uhura)" vids. I'm currently obsessed with "Recessional," and can't stop watching it.

Oh, and if theplanetmary is out there somewhere, I'm still loving on your Native Sky series; Keep up the awesome work. (To those readers who don't know what the hell I'm talking about, go read "Speaking in Silence," the first fict in the series. You will be utterly captivated, the same way I was.)

Anyway, this note is starting to rival the fic in length, so I'm going to shut up now. Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated, flames will be laughed at and their pseudo-logic ripped to shreds.

Oh, and Disclaimer: I do not own, and I probably never will. I'm just a fan entertaining herself during the dog days of summer, and this fic is not intended to offend anyone, nor shall it make any money.

Bye!


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